


Fifth Edition

by Byacolate



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: And Also DMs, Dungeons & Dragons, Everything Is The Same But They Sometimes Play D&D, Gen, Genji Shimada is a Little Shit, Hanzo Is Very Good, M/M, McCree is Bad at D&D, More Like Dismantling Your Team From the Inside, Oneshot, Team Building
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-10
Updated: 2017-01-10
Packaged: 2018-09-16 15:21:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,089
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9277847
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Byacolate/pseuds/Byacolate
Summary: “Son of a… you tellin’ me this game ain’t even got guns?”





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mywordsflyup](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mywordsflyup/gifts).



> Happy birthday, nerd.

The character sheets are out.

 

From around the table, various hands reach toward the center, grabbing for snacks. Hana hasn’t lifted her head from her sheet in fifteen minutes; Junkrat isn’t participating, but he’s been putting various paper plates in front of her just to see what she’ll eat. Beside her, Roadhog snatches up the squid jerky dipped in marmite she’d almost unwittingly reached for next. Only somewhat cowed, Junkrat skulks around to Roadhog’s other side to lavish him with treats instead.

 

On the other side of the table, Hanzo is hard at work in between Zenyatta and McCree; the latter leafing through page after page of info on a tablet at a leisurely pace, and the former sitting motionless, likely scanning the core rulebook in his internal databases.

 

Genji watches it all from his seat at the head of the table,

 

Chewing on the end of his pen, McCree nods to himself. “Think I’ll play a gunslinger.”

 

“Predictable,” Hanzo scoffs, leaning back and folding his arms across his chest. He glances across the table at his brother, gesturing toward the table. “Is this even a homebrew?”

 

“Whassat mean?” McCree grumbles, mimicking Hanzo’s pose. Genji shakes his head.

 

“A homebrew is a game with some, ah… discrepancies from the traditional rules. This one isn’t, but… I am willing to bend the rules if Jesse is immovable.”

 

“Son of a… you tellin’ me this game ain’t even got guns?”

 

“Not this edition,” Hanzo says.

 

Genji adds, “Not outside of a homebrew.”

 

"We are playing old school," Hanzo says, leaning over toward McCree. "I thought that was your purview, _cowboy."_

 

"You're one to talk, _archer."_

 

Hanzo huffs. "I," he taps a pen against his character sheet, "am a ranger."

 

"Yeah?" McCree's eyebrows draw together. "And what's that?"

 

"An archer," Genji says.

 

"A furry," Hana mutters. Hanzo flushes when McCree slowly turns back to look at him.

 

"It is a noble subclass of rogue -" he splutters before McCree cuts him off.

 

"You're sayin' I can't be a gunslinger, but you get to be the same arrow-slingin' deviant sittin' right here beside me -"

 

"Alright, you two," Genji interrupts, leaning forward. "Stop flirting and roll your stats." He tosses a handful of chocolate at Hanzo to pacify his grumbling, and hefts an enormous jar of dice onto the table. “It is time to get serious.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“Yo, nerd brigade,” Lúcio calls, poking his head into the rec room from the kitchen half an hour later. For the moment, a heated debate over the merits of Constitution pauses. “You need a top up on those munchies?”

 

“More ginger crackers, stat!” Hana calls. Roadhog grunts his agreement, tipping the last of them out on the napkin in front of her.

 

“No, thank you,” Hanzo says, and McCree hollers,

 

“You got some coffee goin’?”

 

“Can do, and can do,” Lúcio answers, giving them finger guns before he ducks back into the kitchen. Hana turns back to McCree once he’s gone and slaps her hand on the table.

 

“As I was saying, the merits of high Con -”

 

“I ain’t no coward, little miss, if fate decides it’s my time to go -”

 

“It won’t be fate, old man, it’ll be the _negative two_ in your attribute bar...”

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


 

 

 

“This is Maria, the human gunslinger,” McCree says, holding up a stick figure doodle, featureless but for the cowboy hat on its head. “She’s got charisma up to here, and she ain’t afraid of death.”

 

Hana grumbles something under her breath, but when Genji turns his face toward her, she begrudgingly settles. Hanzo slides her McCree’s bag of spicy Cheetos.

 

“I will be Aoi, the ranger,” says Hanzo, smoothing a hand down his sheet. “She is a high elf, and her constant companion is a white wolf, called Yuki.”

 

“Original,” Genji quips. The caramel Hanzo throws at him bounces off his faceplate with a _tink._ “Have you two decided whether or not your characters are acquainted?”

 

“The matter is not settled,” Hanzo says, just as McCree insists,

 

“They’re married.”

 

Hanzo scowls. “Must we really discuss the narrative poignancy of two characters gradually coming to know and care for one another -”

 

“Maria knows what she wants, goddammit, and if it’s an elven furry, narrative ain’t gonna slow her down,” McCree starts, and stops himself. Sighs and falls back against the booth, all bluster. “Maybe we’ll find a compromise.”

 

“Unlikely, but it is something to settle in your own time. Tell me when you figure it out,” Genji quips, before he turns to Roadhog. “Mako?”

 

“Tiefling. Paladin,” Roadhog slides his sheet over toward Genji. Hana scoots over and snoops her way down the page with Genji.

 

“Oh, sweet! Heals-heavy. That’s always useful.”

 

Roadhog grunts, lifting his mask just enough to take a dainty sip of tea. Popping back into place beside him, Hana throws both arms over the back of the booth.

 

“I’m the kickass Aarakocra warlock: Chiquita! I hope you’re all ready for me to dazzle you with light shows and high-flying action.” She points at McCree and Hanzo and fires off a couple _pew-pew_ laser ray finger guns. “You’re looking at the real star of this campaign, boys.”

 

“All of these cantrips are cosmetic,” Genji says, holding up her sheet. Hana beams and blows imaginary smoke from her finger pistols before tucking them into invisible holsters.

 

_“Light shows.”_

 

Genji shrugs and accepts her sheet, finally looking toward Zenyatta. “And you, Master? I know you were interested in the dragonborn race.”

 

“Hey yeah, and I saw the monk class in that rulebook,” McCree says, stuffing his hand in a bag of corn chips. “And a… what’sit called… a cleric? Can I assume that’s where you went, metal man?”

 

Zenyatta inclines his head, orbs drifting lazily around his neck. “I will play Balwant, the barbarian.” McCree stills, a fistful of chips inches from his mouth. Even Genji doesn’t seem to know how to respond. “This is a game of fiction... And team composition is important.”

 

It’s a little hard to argue with that.

 

“Good job, everyone,” Genji says once he’s through double-checking their stats, clapping his hands together once. They can’t see his face behind the visor, but he certainly gives off the vibe of a beaming parent. “I am impressed that some of you managed cohesion at all. Any secrets you feel you’d like to share about your characters, come to me after our introductory session. Now.” He grips the lid of his mega jar of dice and rattles it, just once in his good cheer. “Let us see which of you dies first.”

**Author's Note:**

> The name "Balwant" means "strong" in Nepali. Zenyatta's esoteric sense of humor strikes again.
> 
> Inquire about fic requests [here!](http://wardencommando.tumblr.com/ask)  
> Tumblr: [wardencommando](http://wardencommando.tumblr.com/).  
> Battle.net ID: byacolate#1589


End file.
